


Cotillion

by CaelumLapis



Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M, Spoilers: General for all prior episodes., Spoilers: specific for Season Four’s Spirit and Blank.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:28:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24887596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaelumLapis/pseuds/CaelumLapis
Summary: Clark is beginning to see that having your mother chaperone your heavily-protested coming out party is social death.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Cotillion

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer is, I don’t own them, not even a little.

Clark huffs a sigh, and stares around the room, noting again that this was not _precisely_ what he had in mind. And yet it continues, this party at the Talon, the result of an ill-timed confession after Kevin rendered him incapable of remembering precisely why he kept so much of himself hidden. A few awkward people shuffle their feet and sip quietly at unleaded punch. 

Martha stands there with her arms crossed, trying to be supportive but glaring at any guy that comes within six feet of him. Clark is beginning to see that having your mother chaperone your heavily-protested coming out party is social _death_.

Clark leans against the wall, brooding silently in his tiara and looking miserable. The tiara was a joke from Lois, and she is _so_ paying for that one. Clark still isn’t exactly sure how she convinced him to wear it. And if one more person says this is his party and he should dance if he wants to, there could quite possibly be a fire and a _lot_ of screaming.

The door jingles as it opens somewhere behind him, and by now Clark is so far beyond having fun that one more person isn’t going to make the _slightest_ difference in that. Until a very familiar voice says, “Hello, princess.”

He turns around, and Lex is standing there looking amused. Clark runs a hand over his hair and grabs the tiara, thinking he is going to really _enjoy_ killing Lois later. Lex shakes his head just a little and grins. “Leave it on. Brings out your eyes.” 

And he _winks_ , as if he knows the punchline and Clark hasn’t even heard the joke yet. Lex mutters something about needing to resuscitate the party and heads for the punch. Clark can’t find it in him to protest too loudly when he sees a silver flash from Lex’s palm, and watches him take the punch from unleaded to premium octane. 

Martha is watching Lex warily, and he gives her one of those charming smiles that could sell you sand on the beach. Martha flushes a little and smiles tightly in return, looking away and being suddenly busy with something.

Lex walks back over to Clark, and rather than offer him some punch, he silently hands him the flask. Clark would propose, but he’s thinking that if someone examined their combined history of matrimony, it could easily be seen as a veiled insult. So he takes the flask and a healthy swallow from it, and hands it back. Lex does the same, and then makes it disappear somewhere inside his coat. It would be such a simple thing to ignore, but Clark is suddenly very aware of the fact that his mouth was _just there_ and then Lex… and Clark is wearing a _tiara_ and his list of things to be embarrassed by will be strictly limited to that, damnit. 

He eyes the front counter, where Martha finishes wiping off the espresso machine for the fifth time in a row. She is distracted briefly by a slender boy in a fashionably rumpled suit who strikes up a conversation, and Clark heads for the front door.

He knows Lex will follow him, and might even wonder where he is going and why. Clark pauses outside the front door, glancing around at the mostly deserted strip of road. Lex arches a brow and studies him, mostly curious and still a little amused. Stupid tiara.

Clark eyes him for a second and then offers, lamely, “Didn’t want to drink in front of Mom.”

“Ah.” Lex considers that for a moment, and then offers Clark the flask again with a question mark residing in the lines between his eyes. Clark shakes his head and takes a deep breath, and Lex accepts that quietly, taking another shot from the flask before it vanishes again.

Then Clark moves, faster than he _should_ , and he’s pushing Lex back against the wall, just enough to keep him there. He fists his hands around the soft wool of Lex’s coat, leans in, and kisses him. It is a strangely surreal thing, all the little details that stand out, the surprised intake of air, the sudden shock of liquor and subtle undercurrents of coffee that melt away into just Lex. He can feel Lex’s hands move, a little shaky as they grab the sides of his waist. They pull away from each other just long enough to whisper a hasty plan and to duck into the alley beside the store, breathing their anticipation in short bursts. Another wall behind him, and Lex in front of him, the rest a blur of lips and hands and nerves that bunch and coil before stretching taunt and screaming through his thoughts, across the insides of his eyelids like spiderwebs when he can’t think any longer. 

It’s his party, and _this_ is the dance he wants.


End file.
